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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223604">Signed Editions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapunzel713/pseuds/rapunzel713'>rapunzel713</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, But mostly fluff, Fluff, Gen, I just want to make the angel happy, and a tiny amount of angst on Anathema's part I guess, whatever happened to that book?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:22:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapunzel713/pseuds/rapunzel713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The fate of <em>The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch</em>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Signed Editions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Here you are, my dear.” Aziraphale straightens the stack of three books Anathema had decided to purchase. He’s…not exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>unwilling</span>
  </em>
  <span> to part with them, but he is less reluctant than usual considering the recipient is Anathema. She did help cancel Armageddon, after all. And one wouldn’t wish to be rude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anathema and Newt had dropped in unannounced so that the witch could comb through Aziraphale’s occult section. She’d waved off his help, so he’d kept Newt company at the front. Since Sergeant Shadwell’s retirement from the Witchfinder Army, Newt had been left to — reluctantly — pick up the reins. He was currently trying to track down the officers in the payrolls. Shadwell’s paperwork was...inconsistent at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t need a bag,” says Anathema, incorrectly assuming that he has bags to give her. She begins secreting them away in a large shoulder bag. (And Aziraphale silently reminds himself that at least the books are going to a good home. Why, they’d be in the company of…of…)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, actually,” he begins, and his hands wring together. “I was wondering…would it be at all possible…” Oh dear. He should have thought this through first. “Since you’re no longer in need of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I was wondering if you might let </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> have it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anathema freezes in the middle of pocketing the third book. Her eyes go wide behind the glasses, and she goes a shade paler. Newt’s jaw drops open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.” She clears her throat. “You want Agnes’ book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale beams his most winsome smile. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. His smile loses some of its intensity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the only book in the world with entirely accurate prophecies,” says Anathema.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know —“ Aziraphale tries to say.</span>
</p><p><span>“And my family has dedicated their lives — I have dedicated </span><em><span>my</span></em> <em><span>life </span></em><span>to figuring out those prophecies.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but if you’ll just —“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>allow all of that sacrifice to be…to be…sold to the highest bidder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” says Aziraphale. His smile turns sheepish. “No, that’s not — this would strictly be my own, </span>
  <em>
    <span>personal </span>
  </em>
  <span>copy. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>collect</span>
  </em>
  <span> books of prophecy, you see.” And he motions for her to follow him into the back of the shop, where his prized books of prophecy are on display only for him. (And for Crowley, technically, who is currently stretched out on the couch tapping on his phone.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shows her Martha the Gypsy, and Ignatius Sybilla, and Ottwell Binns. He shows her Nostradamus and Mother Shipton. He even shows her St John the Divine of Patmos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more he explains, the more she relaxes, until she allows herself to be genuinely interested in the books and ask questions about their authors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And all of the books are signed, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a pity Agnes exploded before she could sign her book,” Aziraphale laments.<sup><a href="#fn1" id="fn" name="fn">1</a></sup></span>
  <span> “But perhaps…perhaps </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>could sign it? You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> her descendent, and the one who helped avert the apocalypse. Yes, I think that would be most fitting, if you’d care to do the honors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt brightens. “I could sign it too, then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Aziraphale back-pedals in mild alarm. “Anathema hasn’t even agreed to —“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have it,” she decides. “But I’m not signing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s smile positively shines, as his entire being lights up (figuratively speaking). “Oh, my dear, that’s…that’s wonderful. Why, that has to be the best news I’ve heard in…in a hundred years!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley finally glances up from his phone. “What news is that, angel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anathema is going to give me </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on,” scoffs Crowley, and Aziraphale falters in his victory. “If Book Girl’s giving you her book, I can’t exactly call her Book Girl anymore, can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Really. He’d thought the objection would be something </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “No,” he drawls. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually have to learn her name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Anathema,” says Anathema helpfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley considers this, then, “…nah, that doesn’t work for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse him, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Anathema assures him, adjusting the shoulder strap of her bag. “I don’t expect much from a demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Retired </span>
  </em>
  <span>demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale agrees mildly. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Anathema and Newt return the following weekend to drop off the only copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, slightly charred. Aziraphale has already made a nice space for Agnes Nutter’s book as the pièce de résistance of his prophecy collection, but he wants to read through parts of it again before he tucks it away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anathema, for her part, seems only too ready to part with it. She takes a deep breath and it’s like a great weight has been removed from her shoulders. She looks happier for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale hesitates, but he has to know. “May I ask what changed your mind, my dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugs. Slips her hand into Newt’s. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter at this point if it stays in the family or not. All of Agnes’ prophecies have come to pass, so. It’s just a book now.” She shrugs again, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t need to be a professional descendent anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I...think I understand.” Over three hundred and fifty years of responsibility to an ancestor would be a heavy burden for anyone, he believes. He offers her a kind smile. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I promise to take good care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we —” Newt clears his throat. “Uh. Should we wait for you to open it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For Satan’s sake, it’s not a present.” Crowley has returned from a coffee run (and tea for Aziraphale). He hands out his spoils, with a final growled order to “Keep ‘em away from the books.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anathema raises an eyebrow. “Mine says ‘Bike Girl.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley gives her a shit-eating grin and hops up on the counter, careful not to sit too close to the book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still feel like there should be some ceremony,” Newt says defensively. “We couldn’t have saved the world without this thing, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can certainly read out the title page,” Aziraphale agrees. “That should do nicely, I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reverently, he passes a hand over the green and gold-embossed cover, then opens to the page in question. As he opens his mouth to begin, Anathema fails to stifle a giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, my dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She points at the crayon drawing of Agnes in the corner. “Looks like I signed it anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><sup><a href="#fn" id="fn1" name="fn1">1</a></sup> <span>His tone makes Newt wonder if he maybe should apologize for his ancestor’s witch-hunting efficiency.</span></p>
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